Smirk
by a beautiful catastrophe
Summary: From across the D.A.D.A. classroom, Black smirked at me and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Okay- wait. Weren't we like mortal enemies or something? And what the hell is with him and those PURELY evil smirks? Is smirking the only thing he does? Really?
1. Prologue

**A/N: Now, once, I did say I was doing a re-write of my old fic, Defy, didn't I, readers of the first fic (that I wrote when I was an AWFUL writer, it was so horrid that I nearly died XP), well here is the re-written version! And as an extra, I've decided to mix the old plotline with another plotline for DIARYofJANEwhite's "OC Plotline Challenge" on HPFC, so it's different to the old one in that way as well ^_^ Here is the super-mega-freakishly short prologue - I promise you, not all the other chapters will be like this...**

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I'm _supposed_ to be a Slytherin.

Why does everyone think of Slytherin as a free pass into the world of death eaters and Voldemort? I mean, Slytherins aren't that bad. Look at me, and you'd probably think: That's one of those stereotypical, snarky, future death eater Slytherins.

That's what you think.

Think again.

Listen here, none of my parents, grandparents, great grandparents and so on so forth, have been or are death eaters. Neither have they been a double agent for Voldemort, a spy, or any career that had the consequence: being eaten by a giant snake by the name of something relatively similar to Nagini, if they failed to fulfill Voldemort's task. Or well, something like that anyway. Really. Go figure.

In fact, now that I think of it, some of my ancestors were even aurors. None of them took up the career of being a servant of Voldemort. _None._ Zilch. Nada. Nil. How else do you want me to put it?

But you see, none of this "I'm not evil" stuff applies to me.

Because I'm not a Slytherin.

_At all._

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	2. Ignorance Is Bliss

It's complicated. I'm not a Slytherin. And I never will be-

"Al."

Who the hell wants to pester me at this time of the day?

Well...actually everyone does. It's around something like 2:21pm on a weekend. Oh, snap. How the hell did I guess that? Pure skill?

Er, no.

There's a clock.

_Anyway, _can't they see I'm having some "Al time" to myself? Yes? No? Obviously not.

"AL!"

Smish smosh. Do I really care about what's-her-face is going to say?

Well, truth is I do.

I may super cold, sarcastic and nonchalant, closing myself off from most of the world, but trust me, I have a heart through all that ice. I care.

"AL! HELLO? ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?"

Well, no.

I'm just awesome like that. I have the oh-so-kind courtesy to actually pretend to listen. To look like I'm listening.

"AL! BLEEDING HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAV-"

"Chill pill. I mean, I only do this every 24 hours a day."

"That's the fricking point!"

So at this point in time you're probably wondering who on Merlin's planet I am, right? No? I didn't ask for your opinion.

I'm Alpha Frasier.

Ugh. Awful name I have, isn't it? It sounds like a name picked out from a cheesy teenage vampire-werewolf novel called Twilight by some muggle hag lady called Stephanie Meyer. And my name is worse than the name Bella, which is completely overrated. That's just how awful it is. I take no pride in my name whatsoever.

Now if you even attempt to call me Alpha, then say hell-o to my fist. And then say good-bye to your still-in-one-piece face.

I prefer- no, wait, I insist on you calling me Al. And if you call me Alpha? As stated above you will be meeting my fist. My fist hasn't had any physical contact with someone's face in a while, I must say. I must have scared the entire population off. Well, intimidating is practically my middle name.

So I repeat: Call me Al, unless you happen to be someone that has the last name Black.

In other words, Sirius Orion Black, Regulus Arcturus Black, Bellatrix Black, Narcissa Black and Andromeda Black, call me The-One-You-Wished-You-Never-Met. I have a death wish for you Blacks.

_DIE!_

Die, will you? Suffocate yourself with one of those bloody ginormous garbage trash bags, yes?

And as usual, your oh-so-intelligent answer is: NO.

Pre-dict-a-ble.

Wondering why I hate the Blacks so much?

Here we go.

My mum, Chartreuse (another awful name, they run in the family) Frasier (née Bryce), had a "best friend"-

Cough _backstabber _cough

-called Lucretia Prewett (née Black) and they were inseperable. But you see, my mum was a squib. So you're thinking: Why the hell does a pure-blooded Black want to hang out with a lone Bryce squib? Answer is, because Lucretia didn't know that my mum was a squib. And the Bryce family is a pure-blood family (which wasn't known as blood-traitors until they found out that my mum wasn't going to be disowned) when she found out (six years later, ignorance is bliss, hey?) she completely ignored my mum's existence for the rest of her life. Hurrah.

So.

When I found out, I swore revenge. And here I was posing as a pure-blooded Slytherin with my (non-traitorous) best friend Fayelene Harper, with me under the alias of Louisa Hunt and Faye under the alias of Camille Hart, spying on real Slytherins and over-hearing future plans that You-Know-Who would make, who was going to become a death eater, and plenty of things that weren't for my eyes or ears. And I take all this information in, and report it to Dumbledore every single Sunday. When I say "real Slytherins" it means "actually sorted by the hat into Slytherin" Slytherins. Unlike me who was a "sorted into Ravenclaw but poses as a Slytherin" Slytherin.

It's risky. And it's likely I'll get caught. But it's for the good of the wizarding world-

Who the hell am I telling you about wizarding yoga philosophy crap, anyway?

So now in the simplest form I can tell you: Faye was screaming her head off at me in the Slytherin girls' dormitory.

Blech.

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**Some of the awesomest people on mother earth because they reviewed my fic:**

**Karla **

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**Thank you so much! Just one thing - I don't intend for Al to be a fully likable character - she says hurtful things for a lot of the fic and this is just the start. **

**Bree :D**


	3. Grey Eyes Like Theirs

**A/N: Finally, right? It's been such a long time.**

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**Da dum.**

**Thump.**

**Thump.**

Honestly, I don't understand why the heck Dumbledore wants us to attend "survival" classes. Apparently, we have to start learning "basic survival" stuff (ahem, shit) like where pulse points are (why the heck would we need to learn that?) and how to swim. Godric, we could just use _enervate _and transfigure some blob or that kinda jazz into a inflatable pool mattress. Something like that.

**Thump.**

Faye's heartbeat was loud and steady. And very annoying, as it matched the rhythm of a horrible song on the radio.

"Ah! Miss Hunt! My star pupil! I am going to swap you here with Mr Potter, as he seems to be doing a...rather he is doing his job inadequately!" Professor Ching Chong Noodles squealed like a five year old wetting her pants.

WHAT?

NOODLES IS SWAPPING ME WITH BIRDSNEST?

ERG.

I looked at Potter's ex-seat only to find Blackforest sitting in the chair next to it. Bugger.

Oh, how rude of me! I forgot to explain who Professor Ching Chong Noodles, Birdsnest and Blackforest are!

Blackforest's mother given name is Sirius Black (nicknamed Blackforest because I overhead a bleached blonde say 'he was as yummy as blackforest cake'), odd name much? Birdnests's mother given name is James Potter (nicknamed Birdsnest because his hair looks like a birdnest, need I say more?) . They're both in an "exclusive" group called the Marauders, and all of the Marauders are Gryffindors. The Marauders are composed of Black, Potter, Remus Lupin (sandy blonde hair and brown eyes, is nicer than majority of the population of a Hogwarts) and Peter Pettigrew (should be in Hufflepuff, mousy blonde-ish hair, small eyes, ratlike, always seems to agree with Black and Potter).

Professor Ching Chong Noodles's mother given name is Pearl Ranchester-Chan. She favours me over all of her other students - don't ask me why. We're supposed to call her "Professor Chan" But personally, Ching Chong Noodles has a nice ring to it, don'tcha think?

Anyway, I made my way over to Blackforest, being the obedient student I was. I mean, being obedient was one of the characteristics of my inner Ravenclaw freak.

"Well, hello, Slytherin, what brings you over to my table? Why aren't you sitting with your other slimy snakes?" Blackforest asked as if it was the most casual thing in the world to ask.

"I was forced to sit here." came my closed off reply.

"Would you kindly care to elaborate?" he asked, cocking his head to one side, "It wouldn't kill you to use the tiniest bit of emotion, would it? Because right now, you have the emotional level of a pebble."

"Professor Noodles asked me to sit here because your friend," I jerked my thumb towards Birdsnest, "was 'doing his job inadequately' in Noodles's words." I emphasized Ching Chong's words by using my fingers to add speechmarks.

"Professor Noodles?" he asked, snorting a little.

"Professor Noodles, Professor Chan. Same diff to me." I said, rolling my eyes.

"Wow, that's a whole new look for Slytherins. I mean, they don't even roll their eyes. They don't come up with amusing nicknames. You're more like..." he squinted at me, "a ravenclaw. You're different to the rest."

"Great observation. I'm not transfering houses anytime soon." I remarked snarkily. Godric, how did he think of that so easily?

_Remember, you are not Al Fraisier. You are not a Ravenclaw. You do not use amusing remarks, _I chatised myself. _You are Louisa Hunt, you are cold, nonchalant and have the emotional range of a...pebble. You are a boulder - unmovable, unemotional. _

"And just when I thought you were getting to the point of nice. Friends are nice to each other, right? You wound me." He placed his hand on where his upper left chest - AKA the heart.

"We're not friends. You don't know anything about me. I can promise you that you wouldn't know my name." I replied, coldly.

FACE THE WRATH OF MY ICINESS!

"Your name is...um...I've seen you around...you're Lisa Hale!"

"Nope."

"Leslie Hale?"

"First guess was closer."

"Lana Hale?"

"Closer than the second guess."

"Uh, um...er...I give up! What's your name?" He asked me.

"Louisa Hunt," I smirked, "I know I can guess your name correctly on my first try."

"You know my name don't you." It wasn't a question.

"Sirius Black." It didn't sound like a guess at all. It was a statement of fact.

"That was easy - every Slytherin knows my name. I'm the blood-traitor."

"Mr Black, why aren't you-" Noodles began, then she took a glance at me, "Oh! You're getting to know each other, aren't you! I'll leave you two to peace..." she walked away hurriedly.

I immediately went staight back to the point.

"And that's exactly why we," I gestured between me and him, "are not going to be friends anytime soon."

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It was past curfew, but I doubted any prefect would want to patrol around the Black Lake at this time. I sat on the banks of the Black Lake, pulling individual grass strands out of the dirt.

"My life is stuffed, my life is ruined, my life sucks," I began to list all the things that sucked about me. "my life is shit, I fail at life..." I trailed off, staring at the ground depressingly.

A black dog that looked like a stray, began to walk hesitantly towards me, each padded foot slowly moving.

"It's okay, boy, I won't bite. I'm not like those other snakes." I whispered.

The dog's strikingly grey eyes seemed to search me up and down.

"Please. I won't hurt you like I hurt others."

It seemed to recoil at that, taking a step backwards.

"Please." I whispered pleadingly.

He took a step forwards cautiously, then another, slowly reaching my side. I stroked it's sleek black coat gently, and it let out a muffled bark.

We sat there for a while, when he cocked his head to the side, just like Blackforest had.

"You've got his eyes." I murmured. "You've got the same grey eyes that Regulus and Blackforest do."

It seemed to question who Blackforest was.

"Blackforest is Sirius Black," I told him, "Sirius Black is in Gryffindor, he's a blood-traitor, and..." I racked my brains for something else. "my apparent survival class partner."

I petted it's head once more, before saying,

"You look so much like them, Sirius and Regulus. But are you one of them?"

It ran away, back towards the shadows of the Hogwarts.

A dog couldn't be either of them, I was just crazy.

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**Or is she?**

**review, please?**

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